


Bet You'll Feel Nuts

by skuldchan



Category: Phoenix Wright
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-16
Updated: 2008-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:52:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuldchan/pseuds/skuldchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for this prompt in the Kink Meme:<br/><i>Phoenix dancing nekkid. Not like a sexy dance but something very silly.</i></p><p><i>I... dunno how Edgeworth reacts. :/</i></p>
    </blockquote>





	Bet You'll Feel Nuts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt in the Kink Meme:  
>  _Phoenix dancing nekkid. Not like a sexy dance but something very silly._
> 
>  _I... dunno how Edgeworth reacts. :/_

Miles Edgeworth got to enjoy certain perks once he finally convinced Phoenix Wright to move into his condo with him. There was the pleasure of waking up beside him every morning, climbing into the shower with him, and passing on some fashion and style tips to oft poorly-dressed defense attorney. All in all, Miles felt that he'd been doing a good job of bringing some class and culture into Phoenix's life, which was why he was so surprised to find that when he walked up to his door after a long day at the District Attorney's office that the blaring bass beat that had been annoying him ever since he set foot in the courtyard was coming from his very own home. Perplexed and concerned, Edgeworth shoved the key in the lock and swung the door open. He immediately regretted it. His speakers, his beautiful Bose Acoustimass home theater-grade speakers, were being abused in such a way to play the most obnoxious, rude song he'd ever had the misfortune to be forced to listen to.

"What is the meaning of this?" He shouted, but could barely hear his own voice over the din. "PHOENIX!"

Toeing off his shoes quickly and dropping his briefcase to clap two hands over his ears, Edgeworth wandered into his living room.

"PHOEN--"

Edgeworth froze, and his jaw dropped open.

*~*~*~*~*

I want you smothered, want you covered, like my Waffle House hashbrowns...

One of the many perks that Phoenix Wright got to enjoy, after the very persuasive Miles Edgeworth dragged him off to live in his lavish Marina Del Rey condo, was that Edgeworth stayed at work late fairly often, which meant that Phoenix had hours in the evenings to do all the things that he loved to do that Miles would never have approved of. This included jumping on the bed, double-dipping into the salsa, eating cereal for dinner, and playing his favorite songs on repeat at maximum volume on Miles' expensive sound system. And if the timing and mood were also right, Phoenix sometimes indulged in dancing around the house after a shower, completely naked, with only a wet towel as a prop, imagining himself to be the sexiest lawyer on the planet. It was glorious. And Edgeworth didn't know a thing.

Comin' quicker than FedEx, never reach an apex...

Phoenix mouthed the words, shaking his ass to the beat, the towel slung around his shoulders as he strutted his stuff in the living room, wrapped in the fantasy that Miles was at home, not at work, and Phoenix was putting on the show of a lifetime--just a short prelude to the lapdance of a lifetime. It would be a long time before it happened of course, given how prim and proper and terribly repressed Edgeworth was, but Phoenix was working on him slowly, and until he'd crack all the layers of Miles' cold exterior and interior, he'd have to settle for the fantasy. At least he was getting in some good practice in the meantime.

...just like Coca-Cola stock you are inclined to make me rise an hour early...

Phoenix made thrusting motions with his hips, unwrapping the towel and holding it at both ends, dancing and moving with it with a giant grin on his face. He moved his shoulders to the beat, swinging the towel from side to side the way that he sometimes saw models do on the catwalk on TV, catching one end of the towel as he reached the end of the imaginary runway and did a little spin, showing off the assets of Phoenix Wright, attorney at law, to an imaginary audience.

...just like Daylight Savings Time...

Phoenix flashed a winning, mischievous grin, not missing a beat to his lipsync.

“Do it now.”

Then he turned around, and the chorus died on his lips. His grin quickly faded into a look of utter, embarrassed horror. The salsa was still out, and it was getting warm. He hadn't washed the dishes yet, and the sheets were still mussed from him jumping on the bed briefly on the way from the closet to the bathroom. And worst of all, he had no clothes on, was flapping in the breeze half-erect, he was singing one of the tackiest songs known to man, and had failed to notice that his boyfriend had walked in the house and possibly been staring at him for minutes already.

"Oh my god," Phoenix wanted to say, but the words never made it out.

*~*~*~*~*

Edgeworth tried to make a sound, not that it would have done him any good. Phoenix had his back to him, and was completely wrapped in the music, or the dancing…probably both. There was nothing he could really do to get Phoenix's attention—perhaps somewhere deep inside him, he actually didn't want to—so he just watched, his initial look of incredulity changing into something more akin to a look of smoldering desire with each shimmy of Phoenix's ass. Edgeworth had never seen anything so sexy in his life as Phoenix dancing with a towel. Naked. In his living room.

Edgeworth hadn't even noticed how his body had responded to his boyfriend's hips wiggling back and forth in some lewd, innuendo-filled motion, until Phoenix had turned around and stalled, his pelvis thrust forward, a look of disbelief on his face. Edgeworth had never seen anyone turn that red that quickly, but his own realization of his erect state made him flush a shade that almost matched Phoenix.

Phoenix stood there, frozen, a terrified, panicked look in his wide eyes, as he cast about for some sort of excuse, some sort of explanation for why this was happening, but nothing came to mind as to why he was naked, and dancing to a song whose lyrics mostly consisted of, 'you and me baby ain't nothing but mammals so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.' There were simply no words for this sort of moment. Miles strode forward in the middle of Phoenix's panic, and suddenly there seemed the distinct possibility that the one in the house with no clothes on was going to get thrown out into the street. It wasn't until Edgeworth was almost in front of him that Phoenix looked down and noticed that Miles was sporting an erection that was practically begging to be let out of his pants.

Edgeworth prided himself on being quick to think on his toes, so he shot a predatory grin at Phoenix—a rare one usually reserved for bedroom purposes only—and ran a thumb along the naked defense attorney's lower lip before backing away and finding a seat on the armchair in the corner of the room. Edgeworth folded his arms across his chest.

"Get on with it," he said. He couldn't quite be heard over the ruckus of the Bloodhound Gang, but the movement of his lips got his words across.

This couldn't be for real. Shooting Miles an uncertain look, Phoenix picked up the song again just as the chorus was ending. He was dreaming, and totally unprepared to boot! His routine had to be refined, he had more moves he'd wanted to experiment on, but now Miles was home from work, still in his suit and his jabot, and he was telling Phoenix to 'get on with it.' Taking a deep breath, Phoenix worked himself back into the beat. Now was not the time to blow it, metaphorically speaking. If he didn't want this evening to end in disaster, he was going to have to deliver like a pro. It was a little bit like walking into court with a half-assed, bullshit case, except this time Miles Edgeworth was judge, jury, and prosecution.

Love, the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket…

Phoenix started by slinging the towel back over his shoulder. He took a wide step to the side to give Miles a good view of his cock, and rubbed his hands across his torso and stomach before moving again. He noticed a gleam in Edgeworth's eye—a glint of lust—and that was all Phoenix needed to find his groove again. It seemed that Miles wanted him—Miles wanted him a lot.

Hieroglyphics? Let me be Pacific I wanna be down in your South Seas, but I got the notion that the motion of your ocean...

Phoenix gave Miles his smartest, sexiest pout as he mouthed the lyrics, running his hands over his lips as he sang. He turned to the side, nipping on his fingertips and sucking on his digits before he turned back again, making sure that he had Miles' complete and undivided attention. With a grin and a raise of his eyebrow, Phoenix grabbed for one end of the towel, whipping it off to his side in one fluid movement that was pure, unadultered drama. He struck a pose, pointing a finger in Miles’ direction as he kept in perfect time with the lyrics.

So if I capsize on your thighs high tide...

Phoenix grabbed the other end of the towel and danced with it, stretching it out in front of him and behind him as he moved from side to side with the music, turning his back on Edgeworth to ensure that he had a full, unobstructed view of his ass. Phoenix bent over and arched right back up again, twirling to face Miles. There some ridiculous mix of horror and want written all over Miles' expression, and though Phoenix would have preferred more of the latter than the former, this was something he could work with.

Please turn me on I'm Mister Coffee with an automatic drip...

With a saucy grin, the kind that Miles usually rolled his eyes at, Phoenix tossed Edgeworth his towel. It landed on his lap, but Miles hardly flinched, or even moved at all, except when Phoenix blew him a kiss while shaking his hips and he saw Miles’ arm, folded at his chest, fall into his lap as his hands crept beneath the towel and he stroked himself. Yes, that was supposed to be the desired effect. Success. Phoenix gave his boyfriend a satisfied grin and danced tantalizingly close, leaning over the armchair almost close to enough to kiss Edgeworth before taking a few steps back again—just out of reach—and running his hands down the insides of his legs.

And then we'll do it doggy style so we can both watch "X-Files…"

This was far from over, despite the fact that Miles' desire was rapidly gaining priority over all else in his mind. For a second Phoenix was afraid that Edgeworth might just heave himself up off armchair, tackle him to the ground, and try to fuck him on the spot, which wasn't the game plan. There was supposed to be a lapdance before that happened.

Phoenix approached as the second verse segued into the chorus, and he undulated, moving his entire body as he perched himself over Miles, lifting one leg and leaning on the armrest to to give him a tantalizing view of his now fully erect cock. Phoenix turned around, wiggling his ass over Miles' lap and occasionally giving his sac a little shake when he turned to face Miles again. Edgeworth looked so red he might explode, but still Phoenix danced, feeling like the sexiest, most desirable person on earth as he sang along to his favorite song about sex.

You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel. Gettin' horny now!

The music continued, Phoenix danced like he’d never danced before, while Edgeworth still stroked himself. Eventually the song faded out, and it was finally quiet enough to talk. Phoenix spread his legs apart, and lowered himself onto Miles’ knees.

“Well?” he asked.

“I want you,” Miles said, his voice tight as he spoke through gritted teeth. “Right. Now.”

“Hmmm…” Phoenix teased, pausing as he seemed to consider the proposal. The music started over again. Edgeworth let out an audible groan of frustration.

Ha-Ha! Well now, we call this the act of mating…

When the music started, Phoenix started bobbing his head and moving his shoulders to the beat. He pressed a quick kiss to Edgeworth’s lips before he hooked his hands around the back of Miles’ neck, waiting for that perfect timing to lean in close and whisper:

“I’d appreciate your input.”


End file.
